Wandering Thoughts
by Corporeal Rabbit
Summary: Just a quick one-shot. A long day of training gets Christian thinking a bit. Language; M; Self Love; Imagination; Dirty Thoughts


"What a night," Christian said to himself as he pushed the door to his hotel room open. His broad hand flicked the light on as the door swung closed with a squeak and a click behind him. His eyes glided across the small, single-bed room. The bag containing his gear landed on the floor with a dull thud by the door as he walked further in, collapsing face first onto the bed.

He rolled onto his back, his blue eyes taking in the white stuccoed ceiling. Christian scrapped his shoes across the carpet a bit before kicking them off, the rubber giving a bit of a squeak as he pressed the toes to the heels.

His body ached something fierce. It had been awhile since he had a training session like that. He scratched his chest for a moment before sitting up, a groan escaping him as he did.

A good, warm shower sounded good to him. It'd probably wash away both the stink and the ache he'd gained throughout the day. He pushed himself to his feet, wincing as he stretched his arms above his head and arched his back.

The ground rumbled a little under his toes as he stretched and walked at the same time. His hand gripped the edge of the door way, swinging him a bit into the bathroom, groping for the light switch with the other. He grumbled a bit, shielding his eyes from the dim neon as it flickered on.

Christian stepped to the head of the tub, pulling back the shower curtain to turn the knobs, turning the metal tab to the side to reroute the water through the shower head. He stood back, turning to face the mirror, his broad palm running across his rugged stubble as he grinned at his reflection. He stripped his clothes off, grinning as he flexed in the mirror. He pulled the shower curtain back, checking the temperature with his hand.

The water fell onto him as he stepped over the wall of the tub, the rings of the curtain clattering as he pulled it closed. He soaked in the water a bit, letting it's warmth sooth his aches. His mind began to wander, thinking back to the training session, the steam helping to clear his mind.

"What was that ginger kid's name?" Christian asked himself, staring at the back wall of the shower as the water rained onto him, "Sean? Seth? Keith…" He closed his eyes, leaning his head back. "Mmmmhnnnn… Heath. That's right" he said. He reached back and rubbed the back of his neck, opening his eyes to look up at the stucco ceiling. "That kid could really toss a guy."

Christian tried to form the image of the man in his mind. The pale skin. The strawberry red hair. That stupid grin and swagger. Heath kind of reminded him of himself. And being Captain Charisma, he enjoyed being reminded of himself through other people.

His mind's eye wandered over that glistening body. Was there that much oil before? He couldn't remember. He could only remember the red marks his large hands left on that pale skin. The way his chest heaved as he recovered. The way he tossed that fiery hair. Christian groaned slightly at the image in his head.

He lingered on the image of that pert rear in those tights, licking his lips. That ass. It seemed to melt in his hand when he had gripped it in their tangles. It was perfect to grind against when he held him from behind.

Christian gasped as he turned around, the warm water rolling down his face. He sputtered a little, running his hands through his short hair. His hands fell to his side, resting them on his hips, his fingers rubbing the dimples gently.

Heath danced around in his mind, his chest jiggling. Christian gripped the base of his obelisk, rubbing the flesh with his thumb. He groaned as he watched the vixen wiggle in front of him, imagining himself pressing him up against the wall. His hand began to pump around his shaft as he ground into the imaginary lover, feeling that pert (though invisible) year tense.

He grunted as Heath's imaginary moans filled his ears, panting as the steam filled his lungs. He braced his arm against the wall as he pumped his hips against his hand, the vixen's imaginary rear being filled with more than just his charisma.

His hand pumped faster, those thin but pouty lips wrapping around his length, strawberry hair wafting as the imaginary head bobbed. Christian groaned, his cock throbbing as the precum formed and rolled down his length, washing away as water rolled down his body.

Christian thrust his hips faster into those invisible lips. He gripped his cock harder as he thrust slowly into his hand. Ribbons of cum shot against the wall of the shower, his moan filling the small room. The imaginary Heath's murmurs of relief and joy filled his ears as he panted. His fist clenched against the tiled surface of the shower.

Composing himself, Christian finished his shower. He pushed the slight guilt he had of forcing himself onto an imaginary Heath. He couldn't feel guilty on something he'd rather have done in person. He turned the taps off, throwing the curtain open, stepping out as he grabbed a towel and began to dry himself off.

He fell back onto his bed, staring up at the stucco as he let his thoughts wander again, the vixen's red hair wafting in and out of them in the distance of his mind. He smirked to himself. Maybe one day those thoughts would come to fruition, but for now, he'd keep them to himself.


End file.
